


The Nearest Thing to Heaven

by TheDuchessUnseen



Category: An Affair To Remember (1957), Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1950s, Daughters of Bilitis, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Gay Rights, Lesbian bars, Major Character Injury, Mutual Pining, Nudity, Post WWII, WWII Resistance Fighters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-02-12 22:57:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12970245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDuchessUnseen/pseuds/TheDuchessUnseen
Summary: 1957, while vacationing on an ocean liner, Angela Ziegler meets famed war hero Moira O'Deorain.  The two are drawn to each other instantly, before their ship docks they pledge to meet again.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspiration hit me like a train for this AU with these two.  
> This fic is based off of the 1957 movie 'An Affair to Remember' I highly highly HIGHLY recommend that everyone check out the theme to this film 'An Affair to Remember' by Nat King Cole, it moves me to tears.

            Angela Ziegler walked along the deck of the ocean liner, paying so much attention to the sea she nearly tripped over a thin gold case.  Bending down, she picked up a cigarette case, the initials M.O. carved on the side. 

            “That’s my case.” a woman called out from behind her.  Angela turned to see one of the most stunning women she had ever seen.  The woman was tall, very tall, with short red hair more suited to a man and an impeccably cut suit; but the most fascinating thing about her were her eyes.  One blue as the ocean they were sailing on, the other a deep dark brown, so dark it almost seemed red.  “My case?” the woman said, snapping Angela out of her reverie. 

            “I – How can I be sure this is yours?”  Angela stammered.

The woman chuckled, a deep honeyed sound that sent thrills down Angela’s spine.  “Worried I’m a thief are you?” Angela started to apologize until the woman waved her apology away.  “I can’t say I blame you, I do cut a rather roguish figure.” she smiled, causing Angela to blush.  “Look inside, there’s a message to me carved in it.” 

Angela did as instructed, thankful she knew French.  “To Moira.” she stopped, “Oh, you’re the famous Moira O’Deorain.”

“You can keep reading.” Moira said with a cheshire smile.  Angela’s eyes widened as she read the message, her blush deepening. 

“I was not expecting a message so…explicit.” she said as she handed the case back.  Moira took a cigarette from her case, deftly lighting it before stowing the case in a breast pocket.

“So do I get your name?  If not, I’ll have to make one up for you.”

“Angela Ziegler.” Angela said, quickly extending her hand. 

“Ms. Ziegler.” Moira said, gently taking Angela’s hand, kissing it softly.

Angela grew redder, “I’m glad I could help.” she said, turning and quickly heading back to her stateroom, ignoring Moira’s smirk. 

Moira watched the shorter woman go in a fluster.  She was cute, and possibly gay?  Well, there was only one way to know for sure.  She knew many of her friends would accuse her of being too risky, bur Moira liked risky.  “Wait.” she called out.

            “Yes?” Angela turned.

            “I’d like to thank you for finding my case, would you please accompany me for dinner tonight?”

Angela felt her brain go blank.  “Uh, yes, I’d enjoy that.” she finally said.

Moira smiled again, “Which room is yours?” 

            “203.”

            “Grand, I’ll meet you in an hour.”

Angela smiled slightly before hurrying back to her room.  Moira grinned as Angela left, perhaps this trip would be more enjoyable than she thought.

Back in her room Angela splashed cold water on her face.  She could not believe that she just accepted an invitation to dine with Moira O’Deorain.  Everyone knew about her and her _reputation_ ; but when you were as rich as the O’Deorain’s and a war hero lots of people were willing to overlook that. 

It was that reputation that had Angela so nervous.  She had heard those rumors, hoped they were true.  She picked up her favorite book from her nightstand, holding it close to her chest.  She’d never forget the first time she read ‘The Price of Salt’.  Angela knew that she was different since her teen years, it wasn’t till years later that she discovered there were other women like her in the world.  She had never met any other sapphists and only knew any stories about them from pulp stories at a local drugstore not long after her family emigrated to America. 

They were all horribly sad, women who either ended up with a man who ‘saved’ her at the end; or even worse there was a suicide at the end, heartbreak and institutionalization.  The very first lesbian book she read ended that way.  Angela had been so scared to buy it she just stole it from the drugstore.  When she got to the end she cried for what felt like hours before burning it and flushing the ashes down the toilet.  She read many more books like that, none of them ever ending with the two women together.  She became convinced that her life would end up that way, devoid of happiness and she’d end up dead, or in a mental hospital.  Then she read ‘The Price of Salt’. 

She had bought it as a Christmas gift for herself in a little drugstore across town and was enraptured by the story the entire time she read it.  She finished the entire thing in one night and when she reached the end she sobbed tears of joy.  She hugged the book to her chest as she cried, scarcely believing what she had just read.  Never in her life had she expected to ever hear of two women in love finding happiness, but there it was in her arms.

Now she had a chance to at least spend time with another woman like her.  She had to get ready.

Moira stood outside Angela’s room, nervously brushing off her suit.  She suspected that Angela was gay, but she wasn’t sure.  Lingering in the back of her mind was the fear that the other woman was nothing more than an actress sent to expose her.  The list of people who’d pay to have her outted was quite a long one.  She couldn’t afford to have that happen, the Daughters of Bilitis couldn’t afford it.  Moira sighed and once again cursed the world for its stupidity.  So what if she loved women?  Or wore ‘mens’ clothing?  She had already been through so much in the war she just wanted to have peace.  Peace from her past, from people who’d see her jailed or dead before they see her with a woman. 

She thought back to her first dance with the Daughters, her dressed to the nines in her usual butch fashion while Amélie, looking perfectly femme in her party dress spun around the dance floor like two fools.  They should be allowed to be happy.

Shaking away her memories, Moira raised her hand to knock.

Angela opened the door nervously.  Moira was standing there, somehow looking even more impressive in her suit then when they first met.  “Shall we go?” she asked.

Angela nodded, “Yes, yes please.”

Halfway through dinner Moira was certain that Angela was sincere.  The nervous laughs, the soft glances when she thought Moira wasn’t looking all lead Moira to believe that Angela was gay. 

            “So tell me about yourself.” Moira asked.

            “Me?” Angela asked, surprised.  “Well I’m not very interesting I’m afraid.  I was raised in Switzerland and my family and I moved to America in 1937 right when…” she trailed off.  “Before things started getting even worse.”  Moira nodded, she knew what Angela meant, the war affected everyone.

            “I’m sorry.” Moira offered, unsure of what else to say.

Angela gave her a sad smile, “We made it out, not everyone did.”  Moira’s heart clenched in her chest, the last thing she wanted to do was to make Angela sad.

            “Well what are you doing now?” she asked.

Angela’s eyes brightened, “I’m a nurse!” she said excitedly, “I work for in pediatrics!”

Moira smiled, she could see the woman in front of her working with children.  “That’s good work that you do, you should be proud of yourself.”

            “Thank you.” Angela said, tucking a stray hair behind her ear.  “But it’s nothing like what you’ve done!” she said quickly. 

Moira paused, uncertainty and guilt creeping across her face.  “I did what I had to.” she shrugged, not meeting Angela’s eyes.  Angela bit her lip nervously, she should have known better.  Everyone knew who Moira O’Deorain was, what she did.  One of the five members of an Underground movement in the war, her and her friends saved hundreds from the Nazi’s.  She never thought of what scars Moira might bear because of it

            “Not many people would do what you did.” Angela finally said.  “Most people just lived in fear and complaceny.”

Moira didn’t answer.  “Did you enjoy your food?” she asked.

            “I loved it!” Angela exclaimed.

Moira smiled, and their conversation turned to easier topics. 

They continued talking long after their plates had been taken away, leaving only because the dining hall was closing.  They talked until they reached Angela’s room where both of them stopped, each suddenly very nervous.

            “Moira?”

            “Yes Angela?”

Angela bit her lip, unsure of how to proceed.  “Thank you for the lovely evening.”

            “Of course.” Moira responded, “I – I’m glad you enjoyed it.” she quickly turned to go.

            “Moira.”

She stopped, turning around slowly. 

            “Will I see you tomorrow?” Angela asked.

            “Would you like to?” Moira replied, her throat suddenly very dry.

            “Very much.”

Moira let out a gasp of shock and relief.  “Then I’ll see you tomorrow, good night Angela.”

            “Good night Moira.” Angela said, before opening her door. 

Once in her room Angela spun around, giggling in joy.  She just had dinner with Moira O’Deorain.  Angela Ziegler liked another woman who, Angela thought, had feelings for her too.  Smiling brightly, she showered and headed to bed, her dreams filled with visions of a tall red-haired woman, kissing her under the stars.

Moira stepped out of the shower, steam following her in a billowing fog.  She could not remember the last woman she had felt such a connection too.  Angela was definitely a lesbian, there was no doubt in Moira’s mind, in fact, were things different, Moira would have been so bold as to kiss the pretty nurse good night.  Pouring herself a glass of whiskey, Moira thought about the next day; and wondered how good it would feel to kiss Angela Ziegler. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moira and Angela continue their relationship and Angela discovers more about Moira's past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter goes well, there's a lot of Moira backstory here!

Moira and Angela met early for breakfast the next morning.  Over the next day and a half, the pair spent nearly all of their time together.  They even did all the annoying cliché things that Moira detested like shuffleboard and bingo.  Moira found she enjoyed them with Angela by her side.  It was after lunch when the two were along the deck, sun blazing overhead that Moira realized she had fallen for the pretty blonde.  She knew this was going to happen, she knew it the night they met.  Once Angela asked her to meet her the following day Moira knew she wouldn’t be able to control her feelings. 

If they had met on the street one day that would’ve been different.  Moira would invite Angela to a dinner with friends, get her nosier neighbors used to seeing her around.  Then, she’d invite Angela over for dinner one night and then- then Moira didn’t know.  She’d tell Angela how she felt about her and what?  They’d live a life in hiding?  Sneak to and from each-others places at all hours to avoid detection?  They’d move in together and be happy and in love but whenever they left the house they’d have to stomp down their feelings because even the slightest touch would make people suspicious? 

            “Moira?” Angela asked, “Are you okay, you seem distracted.”

            “It is fine, just lost in thought.”

Angela nodded and seemed like she was going to push the matter when the ships captain came up to them.  “Ms. O’Deorain.” he said, bowing slightly, “I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

Moira’s gut clenched, “Yes Captain Morrison?”

The Captain licked his lips nervously, “It seems there was a plumbing incident on your deck, one of the pipes burst, a drunken fools idea of a prank it seems.  Moira’s eyes widened, “Now none of your personal belongings were damaged but we will have to relocate you, and I’m afraid you may have to share a room with some of your deck mates.”

Moira swallowed nervously, she didn’t like the idea of being so close to complete strangers.

            “Oh, surely there’s no need for that!” Angela cried out beside her. 

Moira and the Captain turned to face her.  “How do you mean?” Captain Morrison asked. 

            “Captain, if you could have some of your men replace the queen size bed in my stateroom with two twin size beds then Ms. O’Deorain and I could share my room and you won’t overcrowd anymore passengers.”

The Captain sighed in relief, “Thank you very much Ms. Ziegler, I’ll get them to work right away, now Ms. O’Deorain, if you’ll please come with me and we can get your things.”

Moira followed, thankful that she wouldn’t be around people she didn’t know, but now she was nervous for a different reason.  She had not expected to be in such close, private proximity to Angela on this trip. 

The rest of the day passed without incident, or if there were any Moira was stressing over spending the night in Angela’s room too much to notice.  She tried everything she could to keep her and Angela’s conversation away from the impending night.

            “So where are you getting off?” Moira asked over a dinner of halibut. 

            “New York,” Angela responded, “and yourself?”

            “Boston.” Moira replied. 

Angela nodded, that made her more upset than she would have thought.  “Well at least we have time together now, and we can write to each other too!” she said with a smile.

Moira licked her lips, “I’d like that.” 

Later that night Moira sat on a twin bed in striped pajamas, fingers nervously drumming on the nightstand.  She had already had her shower and Angela was in there now.  She laid down, trying desperately not to think of the pretty blonde showering next to her. 

Angela showered, thinking of the beautiful woman in the next room.  She did not know why Moira seemed so distracted today, maybe she wasn’t clear enough in her affections?  Angela supposed that could be the case, she’d have to be more blatant.  Drying quickly, she stepped into the room only to find Moira already sound asleep.  Angela was a bit disappointed, but Moira looked so peaceful when she was sleeping.  Her mouth was parted softly, and her breath was slow and steady.  Bending down, Angela placed a soft kiss onto Moira’s forehead before heading to bed herself.

The next morning as the ship docked at Villefranche-sur-Mer the two showered and got ready quickly. 

            “Are you going into town?” Angela asked over breakfast. 

Moira nodded, “I’m going to see my grandmother.” 

Angela giggled, “Your grandmother?” she asked.

Moira smiled, “Would you like to come with me?”

            “I’d love to!” Angela beamed. 

#

The two walked along the side of a street, Angela marveling at the sights, Moira marveling at Angela.

            “So, when did your grandmother move here?” Angela asked.

            “Well she’s not my blood grandmother, more of an adopted grandmother.”

Angela leaned forward, “I sense a story there!” she said in a sing-song voice.

Moira laughed, “All right, you’ve heard of Grandmother Janou?”

Angela stopped, eyes wide in awe.  “Grandmother Janou, _the_ Grandmother Janou?  As in one of the members of Cinq?  The woman who along with you, her husband and the Lacroix’s saved hundreds of my people by hiding them around Paris, not to mention all the resistance fighting you did?  _That_ grandmother Janou?”

Moira smiled, “The very same.”

            “Is that for her?” Angela asked, pointing at the large package tucked under Moira’s arm.

Moira nodded, “A gift that has been a long time coming.”

The pair walked under an ivy-coated arch into another world.

Angela gasped, “Oh it’s heavenly.”  They were in a beautiful garden, arching trees overhead and flowers arranged impeccably everywhere.  A large fountain sat in the center, its trickling a peaceful melody.  The garden curved off into two paths, one leading towards the main house, the other to a small chapel.  Angela breathed the luxurious fragrance of the flowers in.  “Oh, Moira it’s perfect!” she exclaimed, spinning around, her arms outstretched.  To Moira there was no thing nearer an angel.  “Who did all this?” Angela asked.

Moira shook herself out of her Angela-fueled reverie, “We did.” she said simply.

Angela gawked at her, “You?”

Moira nodded, “After the war we wanted a place to rest, recuperate.  We built this place for just that, granted Amélie and I did most of the heavy lifting and left the planting to Janou and André.”  Angela nodded, suddenly very distracted by the thought of Moira in short sleeves, hot and sweaty, rippling muscles…

            “Angela are you all right?” Moira asked. 

Angela blushed, “Yes, just…lost in the beauty.”

An elderly woman walked out of the chapel, smiling widely when she saw Moira.

            “Moira!” she cried out. 

            “Janou!” she responded, running towards the woman, smiling the biggest, most genuine smile Angela had ever seen on the Irishwoman. 

The pair kissed cheeks and hugged tightly before Moira beckoned Angela over.

            “Janou, this is Angela.”  Angela didn’t even get a chance to introduce herself before being hugged by the older woman.

            “Welcome Angela!” she said, “Any friend of Moira’s is family to me.”

            “That’s very kind of you, I love your garden!” she exclaimed.

Janou smiled, “It’s our little world - what am I doing?  Come in, come in!  We’ll have some tea.” 

The trio sat in Janou’s parlor, sipping tea all while Angela told Janou about herself and Moira told Janou all that she had been doing lately. 

They were interrupted by pattering feet, “Auntie Moira!” a child’s voice exclaimed in French.  Moira ran towards the little girl, picking her up and spinning her around, laughing all the while.

            “Oh, how I have missed you my little Sophie.” she replied.  A man named Phillipe who introduced himself as the groundskeeper, came in next.  Angela only caught bits of the rapid-fire French between him and Moira before Moira turned towards them.

            “I’m going to visit with Phillipe and his family.” she said as Sophie tugged her towards the door by a belt loop, “You two enjoy yourselves!”  Angela laughed along with the Janou as Moira was dragged away.

            “So my dear,” Janou asked, “You like my granddaughter?”

Angela nodded, “Oh yes, she’s wonderful.  She’s easy to talk to and friendly and she’s very beautiful.”

Janou chuckled, “And you know that is not what I meant.”

Angela stuttered, “I – I’ve never, does she?  I mean, will I?”

The old woman chuckled before placing a hand on Angela’s “Is she gay is what you want to ask?”

Angela swallowed, “Yes.” she said meekly.

            “Very much so.” Janou chuckled, “But I take it you are just learning about yourself?”

Angela tensed up, she had never said this aloud before, “I’ve know for a long time but, Moira’s the first woman I’ve ever- felt this way about.”

Janou smiled, “My dear when you get to be my age you can tell things about people, and I can tell that you and Moira both have very strong feelings for each other.”

Angela nodded, the weight of knowing if her feelings would be reciprocated finally eased.  “How did you all even meet?” she asked.

Janou leaned back, “We all knew each other before the war.” she began.  “My husband André and I were art patrons in Paris.  Amélie Lacroix was a divine dancer, her husband Gérard was a poet and Moira was an artist.”

            “Moira’s an artist?” Angela gasped.

            “Oh yes, though she doesn’t do it much anymore.  She is very talented.  We all met one night, got to talking and just like that we became fast friends.  We all loved the arts and would talk for hours on end.  Then the war.” Janou’s eyes darkened.  “After the Nazi’s took over Paris the five of us decided to do something; so, we formed our own underground movement.”  Angela sat at rapt attention, she knew a little of the story, everyone did, but to hear it from one of Cinq was incredible.  “André and I had a very large house, we hosted parties and the like all while sheltering refugees, we were a rest stop on their way to England.  Amélie would collect intelligence from German officers she heard talking in the lounges of clubs.  Moira and Gérard would escort the refugees and sabotage German convoys and power plants.”

Angela shook her head in awe, “Moira doesn’t talk about it much.” she said.

“She doesn’t talk about it with new acquaintances, she’s afraid they’ll see her as broken. She is much better now, when the war ended she had horrid nightmares.”

            “What happened?” Angela asked, afraid of the answer.

Janou sighed, “Her and Gérard were captured not far from Paris by the Gestapo.” she spat out the last word like the curse it was.  “They were sentenced to death by firing squad.”  Angela gasped, her hand covering her mouth.  “They were shot but Moira somehow survived.” tears were prickling in Angela’s eyes now.  “The monsters dumped their bodies on the side of the road.” Janou stopped, her shoulders sagging.  “Moira carried Gérard’s body through the forest to the city.  She lost so much blood we thought she wasn’t going to make it.”

Angela wiped away her tears, “That was the cause of her nightmares, being shot and left for dead.” she said in shock.

Janou shook her head, “It was more than that, it was losing Gérard too.”  Janou smiled sadly.  “Those three together were like magic.  The connection, the raw appreciation for art, for life; it was a beautiful thing to see.  They all loved each other so much and it reflected in their respective art.  Moira would paint the others, Gérard would write poems about them and Amélie dedicated dances to them.  Having Gérard die right next to her was almost too much for her, losing him was almost too much for Amélie too.  Once Moira came back to Paris, the two of them hardly left each other.  I don’t know if Amélie would have been able to deal with losing them both.”  Janou smiled and pointed to a picture on the wall, “Moira did that, in his memory.” 

On the wall hung a portrait of a man standing tall and proud.  He had a thin moustache and wore a leather jacket over simple clothes, a red scarf laid rakishly across his shoulders, and a wide grin that made it look like he was caught mid laugh. 

            “It’s amazing.” Angela exclaimed.

Janou smiled, “After the war we exhumed Gérard’s body and buried it in a plot behind the chapel, so he could rest here too.  When André died we buried him beside Gérard.”

Moira returned at that moment, still smiling from meeting with Phillipe’s family.  “So, I hope you found something to talk about while I was gone?” she asked.

            “Yes we did.” Angela replied, not wanting to burden Moira with old memories.

Moira smiled, a twinkle in her eyes. “And now my dear grandmother, I have a gift for you.” she said as she moved towards the package she’d brought with her. 

Janou sighed, “I tell you and Amé that I am too old for gifts.”

            “No one’s too old for gifts!” Moira smiled, as she placed the package in front of Janou.

Janou just shook her head and began to tear at the wrapping.  As she unwrapped it, her hands moved slower.  “Oh my.” she gasped.  In the package was a painting of an elderly man with brilliant white hair and a well-groomed moustache.  He wore a plain blue suit and had an almost child-like twinkle in his eye.  Janou’s fingers skipped over the painting reverently.  With one shaky hand she grabbed Angela’s hand, squeezing it tight.  “It is my André.” she said, tears in her eyes.  “Oh, it looks so like him, so full of life.”  She sniffled, as she dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief.  “My darling, thank you.” she said hugging Moira tightly.

            “I had to do it.” Moira replied, tears in her own eyes. 

They all sat down for lunch and talked some more and stayed late into the afternoon.

            “Oh I have such a chill,” Janou shuddered, “It’s these old bones of mine.  Angela darling, would you please get my shawl, it’s over there.”  Angela nodded and came back with an exquisite shawl.

            “Oh this is lovely.” she said as she handed it over.

Janou smiled, “Then one day I shall give it to you.”

Angela smiled, “I’d like that very much.”

They stayed until the boat whistle blew, calling everyone back to the ship.  “I’ll be back soon.” Moira said, hugging Janou close. 

            “It was wonderful to meet you, I’ll write to you.” Angela said, hugging the smaller woman.

            “I would like that my dear.” she told her.

As they returned to the ship Angela noticed Moira stiffen up, become less relaxed.

            “So, what did you and my grandmother talk about?”  Moira asked her over dinner.

            “You.” Angela said simply, “And the war.” 

Moira frowned, “Yes well, I suppose you have questions.”

            “Not at all.” Angela said simply, Moira’s eyes widened.  “I found out a lot and I understand that you don’t want to talk about it.”

Moira smiled, “Thank you Angela, but if you do, I am much better than I used to be.  I can talk about what happened without the pain anymore.”

Angela smiled, “Thank you Moira, but I’d rather focus on the present.” she said, raising her wineglass in a toast.

            “To the present.” Moira agreed, raising her own glass. 

After dinner, the two were back in Angela’s room.  Angela was showering while Moira sat on the bed.  She nervously fiddled with the one thing she kept from the war, a device used to check for electronic bugs.  She swept the entire room, confident no one was listening in.  Sighing, she put it back.  She had to tell Angela how she felt, she couldn’t control her feelings anymore. 

She wanted to hold Angela close to her and kiss her softly, run her hands through her golden locks, leave bite marks and hickeys all along her skin.  It had been so long since she had felt this way about anyone. 

Angela emerged from the shower, wearing a soft robe that clung to her lithe frame. 

Moira stood, hands shaking nervously, “Angela I-” she stopped, the words sticking in her throat.

            “Yes Moira?” Angela asked. 

            “I care about you, deeply, I hope you know that.”

Angela smiled, “Of course I do, I care for you too.”

Moira licked her lips, “Yes but- I don’t know what Janou told you about me but I’m-”

            “A lesbian?” Angela finished.  Moira nodded nervously.

Angela stepped forward, placing a hand on her shoulder.  “So am I, I’ve been hiding for so long I’ve never been with another woman like me before.  But we’re here together now.”

Moira’s breath caught in her throat, Angela was very close to her now. 

            “We, I- are you sure?” she trembled.

            “I’ve wanted this for so long.” Angela breathed, pulling Moira’s lips to hers.

Moira gasped as Angela’s lips met hers.  Angela’s kiss was soft, careful.  Moira gasped as Angela’s hands skittered along her sides.  She couldn’t remember how long it had been since she had been touched this way, but she couldn’t hold herself back any longer.  Taking a breath, she surrendered herself to the present.

Angela gasped as Moira deepened the kiss, biting her bottom lip gently.  Angela staggered forward, forcing Moira to sit on the foot of the bed, her robe shifting off one of her shoulders.  Angela stopped, face red and eyes wide, suddenly painfully aware of just how little clothing they were wearing.

Moira gazed into Angela’s eyes, she may regret this later, but it had just been so long since she had been touched.

Angela saw Moira swallow before slowly pulling the robe off her other shoulder and letting it slide off her arms, leaving her bare from the waist up.  Angela gasped at the sight of the other woman.  Never in a thousand years did she think that she would ever make love to another woman.  She took in every detail of Moira’s body.  Her blush that creeped all the way down from her face to her chest, highlighting freckles along the way.  Her thin waist and flat stomach, the faded scars of bullet wounds.   

            “Do you want me?” Moira asked, her hand unconsciously covering her heart. 

Angela bent over and began to kiss every scar Moira had.  Starting with the one above her hip, moving up the one on her gut, then just above her right breast, and finally her left shoulder.  Moira gasped as Angela kissed her, she continued her kisses all the way up her neck until she reached her lips.  They kissed long and hard and beautiful before breaking off, each gasping for air. 

            “I want you Moira O’Deorain.” Angela panted as she slid off her own robe, “I want every part of you.” 

Moira gasped, relishing in those words, closing her eyes, she pulled the blonde woman close to her, and made love to Angela Ziegler. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all liked it, I hope you all enjoyed Moira's backstory as well as the rest of the chapter, please comment below with your thoughts!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moira and Angela's relationship is tested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to update.

Moira and Angela spent every moment of the next five days together.  Moira reveled in the moments her and Angela were alone, whether they were spent lost in others embrace under cool sheets or just curled up in each other’s arms while they read.  Leaving the room wasn’t as nice.  Angela was in awe of Moira, sneaking shy glances at her, lightly brushing hands with her.  Moira couldn’t reciprocate.  She knew what would happen.  The looks by people, the whispers, and then what?  The ship was different, they could hide there, but the city?  No, there would be no hiding there Moira was too well known.  She couldn’t handle it anymore, the hiding, the feeling of wanting nothing more than to hold the hand of the woman you love but can’t in fear of being attacked. 

The two stood along the ships railing as they came in to New York harbor, the silence between them heavy. 

            “So what are we going to do?” Angela asked.

Moira sighed as she took her cigarette away from her lips.  “What do you mean?” she asked.

            “Us!” Angela exclaimed, “Do we write, when will we see each other again?”

            “Angela.” Moira said, a lump already forming in her throat.

            “What?”

            “I can’t do this.”

Angela’s face fell; Moira tried not to notice. “What?”  Moira hated herself for the way Angela’s voice sounded. 

“This, us – I just can’t.” Moira sighed.

Angela was silent for a long time, “Why?” she said at last.

Moira swallowed, “It just can’t happen, the world won’t let us.”

Angela’s resolve hardened, “Well to hell with them then!”  Moira’s eyes widened at Angela’s outburst.  Angela took a steadying breath, “They can’t stop us.” she said more gently, placing a hand on Moira’s shoulder. 

Moira took a long drag on her cigarette before letting it out with a sigh.  “You don’t know what it’s like.” she said at last.

Angela’s eyebrows furrowed, “What what’s like?”

Moira wiped at a tear.  “The hiding.” she whispered.  Angrily she stabbed out her cigarette before turning to look at Angela.  “Angela.” she gasped, “I look at you, and I don’t want to see anything else.  You’re like going outside and seeing the sun for the first time.  But us-” she broke off, blinking away threatening tears.  “It’s too dangerous.  Do you know how many times I’ve been harassed for being gay?  How many of my friends lost their jobs four years ago?  How many women I know who’ve been-” she stopped unable to finish the sentence. 

Angela was silent, her eyes downcast.  Moira swallowed, “People see.” she said, “They’d see the way we look at each other and that would be it, we’d be exposed.  Angela, we couldn’t even hold hands.”

Neither of them said anything for a long while.

            “We’d be foolish to let happiness pass us by.” Angela finally said.

Moira nodded, “Maybe we are.”

Angela shook her head, “I know you’re scared Moira, but isn’t what we have worth the risk?  I have lived most of my life, over twenty years, believing that I would never be loved.  Now that we’re together I don’t want lose you just because the world rejects us.” 

Moira wiped away a tear.  “You’re not making this easy.”

Angela sighed, hands on her hips, “So you’re giving up?  You’re letting them win?  Are you really going to sacrifice your happiness, our love, because society is wrong?”

Moira didn’t answer, instead looking onto the city. 

Angela turned, her gaze settling on the Empire State Building.  “Wait.” she said.

            “What?” Moira asked.

Angela grabbed Moira’s hands in her own.  “Moira, I know you’re scared, but will you do something for me?”

            “What is it?” Moira asked cautiously.

            “If in four months you’ve changed your mind, if you want to try to live a life with me, meet me.”

Moira knew she should say no, she knew that would be the smart thing to do.  “Where?”

Angela looked back to the city, “At the top of the Empire State Building, on Valentine’s Day.”

Moira didn’t say anything for a moment. 

“Okay.”

Angela left the boat, hers and Moira’s hands meeting for the briefest of moments.  Neither said a word, each unable to speak over the rising lumps in their throats. 

Moira retreated quickly to her and Angela’s room.  Just her cabin now.  She shut her eyes tight, willing away images of Angela coming unbidden to her mind.  Sighing, she headed to the bar, maybe she’d swap war stories with that lumbering German she’d seen roaming the ship; she’d overheard him talk about his resistance work with the Captain.  Hell, at this point she’d do anything to get her mind off Angela.

The second Angela was out of view of Moira, her eyes began to tear.  By the time she got to her apartment she was full on sobbing.  She immediately threw herself onto her bed and cried into her pillow.  She laid there all night, trying desperately not to think of Moira.  It didn’t work.

A month after returning to Boston, Moira pushed open the doors of her favorite bar, savoring the smell of smoke and alcohol.

She nodded in greeting to few of her friends before joining Amélie at the bar.

            “Beer.” she nodded at the bartender before sitting down.  “Amélie.” she said as she sat down.

            “I talked to Janou.” Amélie said, “She said you brought a new girlfriend over to see her, so tell me about Angela!”  Moira looked up to see Amélie smiling at her lasciviously, “Come on tell me about her!” 

            “Well I – she.”

Amélie cut her off with a sigh, “Not again Moira.”

            “What do you expect me to do!” Moira demanded, “Hide forever?”  She knew her voice was raising but she couldn’t help it.  “Yes, I love Angela, I love her so much I can’t breathe but it’s just impossible.” 

Some of the other women looked at Moira as she stopped.  Everyone knew her, she hated the looks of pity she got from them.  Sighing, she turned back to Amélie, “I don’t want to hide.”

Amélie patted her hand affectionately, “I know.” 

Back in New York, Angela was embracing her newfound sexuality.   She had been to several gay bars and even had a new roommate, a wonderful gay man named Jesse.  The pair lived in an apartment in the East Village.  Angela’s life was good, she learned all she could, made new friends with other gay women, her closest friend being a young Indian woman named Satya.  All the while she thought of Moira, Moira’s hand in her own, kissing Moira, loving Moira.  Angela sighed, twisting in her sheets, counting down the days till Valentine’s Day.    

Moira wiped her brow, looking down at the painting before her.  It was, she had to admit, one of her finest works.  The painting was simple enough.  Janou stood in the background, shawl draped over her shoulders.  In the foreground, Angela was facing Janou, wearing the same shawl, arms outstretched.  She had her friend and appraiser Gabriel look at it earlier that day.  ‘Moira.’ he told her ‘You have become a painter again.’  

It was a week before Valentine’s Day and Moira was still unsure if she would go up to New York.  On one hand, she loved Angela and wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of her life with her; on the other, she was scared, not just of hiding, but of being hurt again.  For being as aloof and stoic as she seemed, Moira had a tendency to put too much of her heart into things.  It served her well as a painter, but not in love.  Moira thought back to her last three relationships one who was an actress sent to expose her, Moira was only saved by a bribe to the woman from her family’s money; the next two she ended herself, unable to trust either of them.  Angela had been the first woman she’d met since that she had loved, much less trusted.  Sighing, she headed out the door, she needed a drink. 

At the bar she met Amélie at their usual table, the latter looking uncharacteristically nervous. 

            “Amé.” Moira greeted her, “What’s wrong, you seem nervous.” 

Amélie smiled, “I uh- I’ve found new uh living arrangements.” 

Moira furrowed her brow, “What aren’t you telling me?” she asked.

Amélie smiled meekly when a familiar voice called out, “Auntie!”

Moira smiled broadly as she stood. “Emily!” she said as she hugged her beloved niece.  “It’s so good to see you!” she exclaimed, “Now who’s this?” she asked, pointing to the young brunette by her niece’s side. 

            “Name’s Lena Oxton.” the woman said with a British accent.

            “A pleasure Lena.  Now how did you know where to find me?”

            “Well to be honest,” Emily said “we didn’t know you’d be here, we came to see our, well our girlfriend.”

Moira arched an eyebrow, “One woman between the two of you?”  she said, “What kind of woman could handle you two?  I know my niece is handful enough I can’t imagine anyone being able to handle her and someone else.”

            “Well here she is!” Lena squealed excitedly as her and Emily sat on either side of Amélie, each kissing a cheek.  Moira stood in stunned silence, Amélie looked mortified until Moira burst out laughing, collapsing in her seat.

            “This is hilarious!” she cackled, “Oh Gérard would love this!  What was it he said after you spent a week with Stein and Alice? ‘One woman will never be enough for you Amé.’ well he was right!”

            “You mean you’re not upset?” Amélie asked. 

            “My best friend, niece and I’m sure a great friend in the making are all happy, why would I be upset about that?”

Amélie sighed, shaking in relief before looking up at Moira, “See Moira?” sometimes it pays to take a risk.”

Moira nodded as she thought of Angela.

It was the day.

Finally, it was the day.  The day Angela would go to the Empire State Building, the day she would finally see Moira again.  She was so excited she spent most of the day picking the perfect outfit, Jesse even helped her with her hair.  Brimming with joy, Angela left to go see Moira. 

Moira was shaking nervously as she rode the elevator up.  The entire way all she could think of was Angela, and how deeply in love with her she was.

Angela got out of the cab and looked up.  There, waiting on top of that building was the woman of her dreams.  Angela kept looking up, she heard horns honking and the screech of tires.  Then the world went black.

Moira stood alone.  She was so stupid so damn stupid.  How could she ever think that Angela would show up?  Why would she?  It was a dream, just a stupid fling on a trip. 

            “Miss?” the elevator operator asked, “Miss, it’s the last ride of the night.”  Moira angrily stabbed out her cigarette as she went to the elevator.  Damn her, she thought, damn her for standing me up and damn me for being stupid enough to risk my heart again.

Satya sat nervously in the hospital waiting room, Jesse nervously pacing the floor in front of her.

            “Mr. McCree and Ms. Vaswani?” a doctor called out.  Both were by his side in an instant.

            “How is she Doctor?” Jesse asked.

The doctor sighed, “She’s stable,” Jesse and Satya breathed sighs of relief, “but I’m afraid I have bad news.”  They froze.

            “What is it?” Satya asked, her voice quaking.

            “She broke her back when the taxi struck her, she can’t walk.” 

The pair looked at each other in shock, “She’s paralyzed?” Jesse asked, his voice breaking.

The doctor shook his head, “No, there is a chance that she can heal, it will just take some time.  That being said the next few months will be very difficult, can you contact Miss Ziegler’s family?”

Satya and Jesse looked at each other for an instant.

            “We are her family.” Satya said simply. 

            “I see.” the doctor said, “Does she know a woman named Moira?” the doctor asked.

            “A friend.” Jesse answered quickly. “She was on her way to meet her when the accident happened, why do you ask?”

            “It was the first coherent word she said.” the doctor told them.  “She kept asking for Moira.”

            “We’ll try to get in touch with her.” Satya told the doctor.

            “Very good, now if you’ll follow me you can see Miss Ziegler now.”

Back in Boston, Moira laid on her bed crying her eyes out.  Why couldn’t Angela be there?  What was wrong?  Was it herself?  Fumbling, Moira made her way to the bottle of whiskey, tears mixing with the alcohol as she poured another glass. 

            “No.” Angela said simply. 

            “But why not?” Satya asked. 

            “I don’t want to see Moira until I can walk to her, the doctor said I can recover so I will, I don’t want her to see me as broken.”

Satya sighed, knowing how stubborn Angela was.  “Very well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for any medical inaccuracies.  
> Stein and Alice refers to Gertrude Stein and Alice Toklas, two lesbians who lived in Paris in the 1920's. Look them up, they were amazingly talented.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end!

Two months after Valentine’s Day…

Gabriel Reyes walked through the gallery, hands on his hips.

            “They’re good.” he said, eyes never leaving the paintings.  “Some I can tell you were trying to recreate your older works.” 

Moira nodded, “It was a rocky start.”

Reyes stopped in front of a painting, “Now this.” he said stopping at the painting of Angela and Janou, “This is where you found how to paint again.” 

Moira pursed her lips, she debated even finishing the picture after Valentine’s Day but part of her had to finish it.  It was, she had to admit a beautiful painting.  She had gotten better since that day, for about two weeks after Valentine’s Day she hardly left the house, barely eating.  Amélie had to come over to make sure Moira got out of bed.  But it was good to finish the picture it was at least a small amount of closure. 

#

            “That’s good Angela!” the doctor said cheerfully.

Angela smiled despite herself as she curled her toes.  It was strange that a thing that she once did so simply would be such a challenge for her.  But regardless, it was progress, and each curl meant she was getting closer to seeing Moira again. 

Three months after Valentine’s Day…

Moira finally, slowly, was managing to come to terms with Angela standing her up three months ago, she was painting and going out with friends.  She was regularly going to dances with the Daughters of Bilitis.  She was even drinking and smoking less thanks to Amélie’s insistence.  Speaking of Amélie, her and her partners were visiting Janou, Moira was going to join them in a few days.  Moira had even sold the painting of Janou and Angela a few days before.  While that thought was strange, it was almost like the last bit of closure Moira needed.

Moira’s life in general was improving.

Then the phone call.

Moira stood outside the archway leading to Janou’s house, wrapped parcel under her arm, eyes filled with tears.  She took a shaky breath and stepped into the garden. 

There was a small crowd of people inside, but Moira wasn’t ready, she just stood in the garden, her long fingers deftly skimming across the branches of trees.  It wasn’t long before Amélie came outside, they hugged tightly, sinking to their knees, each crying softly.

            “I can’t believe she’s gone.”  Moira sobbed.

Amélie struggled to form words.  “I- it was just, we said good night and the next morning I went to wake her up and she was just gone.”

Moira hugged Amélie tighter.  “I’m glad you were here,” she said, wiping Amélie’s tears away, “and that she got to see you so happy again.”

Amélie smiled at the package Amélie had, “You made one for her?”

Moira nodded, “I had to.”

The pair stayed in the garden until they had both gotten under control, only then going inside to join the rest of the mourners. 

Emily hugged Moira tightly as soon as she walked in.  Moira hugged her back, grateful that she had reconnected with her niece. 

She visited for a while, people she hadn’t seen since the war ended.  All surviving members of the resistance were there.  That French woman who tended to Moira after she got shot.  That Romani woman Moira would blow up airfields with.  The men from that prison camp.  All there to honor Janou.

Emily, Lena and Amélie were all standing in the corner when Lena nudged Amélie.  The Frenchwoman’s lips pursed as she saw Moira making her way toward the mini-bar.  She watched as Moira took the stopper of the decanter of whiskey.  Anyone else but Amélie wouldn’t know it, but she saw beyond Moira’s collected exterior.  The tightening around het eyes, the shaking of her hands.  Moira closed her eyes and sighed before slamming the stopper on the decanter, leaving the bar and talking to Phillipe.  He gave her a package, saying something Amélie couldn’t see. 

That night after everyone had gone to their respective hotels and Lena and Emily were asleep Moira unwrapped the package she brought with her; and slowly, reverently Moir and Amélie hung a picture of Janou.  Eyes twinkling, shawl around her shoulders, Amélie told Moira it looked just like her.

They buried Janou the next morning, right between André and Gérard.  Moir didn’t touch a drop of alcohol the entire time.

            “We’re proud of you.” Lena told her at breakfast the next day. 

Moira smiled grimly, “It’s- god I want a drink so bad but, I can’t, I won’t.”

            “What was it that Phillipe gave you?” Emily asked.

Moira paused, “It’s Janou’s shawl she uh- Angela said she liked it so Janou told Phillipe to make sure I gave it to her.”

            “Are you?” Amélie asked.

            “Yes.” Moira sighed, “I need to face her sometime anyway.”

Five months after Valentine’s Day…

            “Come on Ange, it’ll be fun!” 

Angela shook her head.  “I’m sorry but I’m just not in the mood.” 

Jesse bit his lip, “You gotta get out sometime.”

            “I know Jessie. I just don’t feel like being around a lot of people, you and Genji have a good time though.”  Jesse nodded, accepting that, Angela didn’t have the heart to tell him she didn’t want to be wheeled around, instead opting to stay on the couch. 

            “Well, if you say.” Jesse drawled.

Moira paced outside of Angela’s apartment, package tucked under her arm.  She had found Angela’s address in the phone book when she got into the city yesterday.  She ended up staying at Janou’s for a few weeks after the funeral.  Janou had left the home to her and Amélie and Amélie was still there, along with Lena and Emily.  In fact, they were all moving there this month, Amélie had told Moira she should move too, but Moira wasn’t sure yet; either way she had to see Angela first.  Swallowing nervously, she knocked on the door.

            “Who could that be?” Jesse said to himself as he made his way to the door.  He opened it to reveal a very tall red-headed woman, he knew her instantly.

Moira frowned as soon as the door opened, so, Angela was living with a man.  “Hello.” she said stiffly, “Is Ms. Ziegler in?”

The man licked his lips, “Yeah, uh, Angie you got a visitor.”

Angela looked towards the door, mouth dropping in shock as Moira walked in.  “Moira.” she gasped.

            “Hello Angela.” she said, her demeanor cool and frosty.

            “Hello.” she said, Angela began to panic. she couldn’t tell Moir, she couldn’t.

            “I’ll uh, be outside.” the man who answered the door said, quickly leaving the apartment.

Moira didn’t pay him any mind as he left, she had tried, she had tried to not be judgmental but as soon as she the man open the door she could feel her anger building. 

            “You’re living with a man.” she said matter of factly.

            “Yes.” Angela said from her place on the couch, “We met at a gay bar.”

‘Oh.’ Moira thought, that came as a shock, at least Angela hadn’t realized she was straight like some trashy pulp novel.

            “So what are you doing here Moira?” Angela asked.

Moira opened her mouth as she set her hat and blazer on the edge of the couch.  She had a whole exchange planned, where she’d pretend she wasn’t there on Valentine’s Day, just to see Angela’s reaction, see if she lied to her; but she didn’t.  Instead, she took a breath and handed Angela the package. 

            “This is for you.”

Angela took the package, confused, unwrapping it carefully.  As she pulled out Janou’s shawl her eyes began to tear.

            “Oh.” she exclaimed, hugging the shawl close to her, “That’s why my letters started to come back.

Moira started, Angela had written to Janou?  For the first time since she got there Moira looked at Angela, really looked at Angela.  She was just as beautiful as she remembered.  As Angela draped Janou’s shawl over her shoulder Moira thought of Angela on the cruise, how her hand felt in hers, how her breasts felt against her, how-

Moira shut those thoughts off as quickly as they came to her, she couldn’t afford to fall in love with Angela again.

            “Goodbye Angela.” she said collecting her things as she walked toward the door.  Angela opened her mouth like she was going to say something before closing it.  Moira turned when she got to the door, looking back at Angela.  ‘She hasn’t even moved since I’ve walked in.’ Moira thought bitterly.  Angela was wearing the shawl now, it looked just like-

Moira knew she should leave, not let herself open up to this woman who had hurt her, but another part of her told her she had to speak her peace.

            “You know I painted you that way.” Moira said, “With the shawl.”

Angela swallowed, “Really?”

            “Yes.” Moira said, “When I got back to Boston I met with an old friend, Gabriel Reyes he’s an art dealer.  So I painted you that way and Reyes well, he liked it.”  Angela sat there, looking at Moira.  “I actually have a gallery now, not with that painting though it sold.  Reyes said a woman came in and bought it.  He said he would have asked me but he said the woman was only in town visiting and she also- and she-”

Moira stopped, a horrible possibility flashing through her mind.  She saw the flicker of fear on Angela’s face, saw her eyes glance toward the bedroom.

            “Anyway.” Moira said as she walked towards the room, “I told Reyes that was fine.”

            “Moira.” Angela gasped as Moira put her coat and hat back on the couch.

            “Well you know since she wanted it so badly and after all the lord loveth a cheerful giver right?”  Moira opened the door to Angela’s room and her hand flew to her mouth in shock. 

There hanging on the wall, was the picture, then Moira saw the wheelchair in the corner.  She closed her eyes, hanging her head in shame.  All those horrible things she thought about Angela, all those things she said about her.  Taking a breath, she looked back at Angela, tears in her eyes.

            “Moira don’t look at me like that.” Angela pleaded.

Moira took shaky steps towards Angela, kneeling beside her.

            “Why didn’t you tell me?  If I would’ve known I would’ve been by your side the entire time.”  Moira said, voice raw.

            “I didn’t want you to see me this way.” Angela told her, “I-”

Moira hugged Angela tightly, “If this had to happen to one of us, why was it you?”

            “It was my own fault.” Angela cried as she leaned back, holding Moira’s head gently, wiping away her tears.  “I was looking up.  It was the nearest thing to Heaven.  You were there.”

Moira cried harder, as she hugged Angela again.

            “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you.” Moira repeated as she kissed Angela, her cheeks, her lips, her tears.  “I love you more than I knew it was possible.”

            “I love you too.” Angela said in between kisses, “More than anything in the world, more than walking, I love you.”

Moira and Angela hugged tightly, neither one wanting to let go of the other.

            “I love you Angela.” Moira whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moira and Angela move in with Amélie and co. I had that in the fic but it just didn't fit.  
> I hope you liked it!

**Author's Note:**

> A huge, HUGE thank you to the Moircy discord and all of their support.  
> The Daughters of Bilitis were a lesbian rights group in the 50's, I'd highly suggest researching them, especially if you like queer history.  
> If anyone is wondering who André and Janou are they're characters from the original film that I simply had to include.


End file.
